Chapter 1

It was all so very embarrassing. I was getting off the bus across from my house, I had a couple of bags in my hands and wasn’t looking where I was stepping. My left foot landed between the bus step and the kerb. I twisted my ankle and my shopping bags fell to the pavement.

I don’t know what was worse, the pain in my ankle, or the sight of my underwear shopping spread across the pavement for all my neighbours to see.

I heard someone dash over and they grabbed my elbow, I looked up and saw it was my neighbour’s boy, Dexter. He helped me to the bench inside the bus stop, made sure I was OK, then started scooping up my shopping and putting it back in the bags.

“She’s twisted her ankle,” he shouted at the bus driver, “park closer to the kerb next time.”

The bus driver gave him the finger and drove off.

“Do you want me to get the number plate Miss Fisher?”

“No, it’s OK, he’s a miserable bastard already, I don’t want him to be any worse with me ... by the way, thanks for coming to my rescue, and collecting my spilled shopping.”

“That’s OK Miss Fisher.”

“I wish you’d call me Alice; Miss Fisher sounds like a primary school teacher.”

“You’re an adult, and mum says I should always be respectful to adults.”

“You can still be respectful while calling me Alice,” I replied as I experimented at standing, no sharp pain, just a dull ache.

“Do you want me to help you walk home?”

“That would be great, Dexter, thank you.”

Dexter is my neighbour’s kid, not next door, they’re arseholes who would have taken my purse and shopping, leaving me at the mercy of the seagulls. No, Dexter lives two doors down with his mum and auntie. Like me, he’s grown up not knowing his dad, I think maybe that’s why we’ve always got on, despite the 10 years difference in our ages.

As you may have gathered, I’m Alice, or Miss Fisher to Dexter and his mum. I’m 25 years old; I work for a local radio station; I do their social media and organise events for them at the nightclub a few minutes’ walk away on the sea front.

I like to think I’m attractive ... I get a lot of attention from my boss and some of the DJs at the station. I’m tall, with naturally jet-black hair and pale skin, I’d make a perfect goth if I liked that sort of music, I’ve even got the boobs to fulfil the big titty goth girlfriend fantasy.

Dexter held my elbow tightly, helping me to my feet, he picked up my bags, and my handbag, which had skidded across the pavement, and we hobbled slowly across the road to my front door.

Without a glimmer of embarrassment, Dexter dug through the make-up, tissues, tampons and loose change in my handbag to find my keys, which he used to unlock both locks on my front door.

He picked up my post as we walked carefully down the narrow hallway, depositing it on the sideboard as he walked me to the sofa.

“We need to get that shoe off and elevate your leg,” he said, looking around the room for a footstool, “ahh ... don’t move, I’ll borrow mum’s.”

I didn’t have a whole lot of time to move, as Dexter was back brandishing a low footstool, before the front door had swung shut.

He knelt before me and looked at my footwear, 14-hole Doc Marten boots ... I’m trying to properly fulfil the big titty goth girlfriend look, even if I don’t like the music. Maybe with the right boyfriend I might grow to like Sisters of Mercy.

“Mmm, this is going to hurt, isn’t it,” I said.

“Maybe if I pull the lace all the way out, yeah, the boot should come off easy then.”

Dexter lifted my foot and placed it in his lap, my heel must have been pressing on his dick, but he didn’t show any sign of discomfort ... he’s such a lovely boy.

He took his time removing the lace, which must have been about half a mile long by the time it was out and coiled on the floor, and once it was out, he was right, the boot simply fell off.

At this point, with my boot on the floor, Dexter let go of my foot for a moment and my leg dropped, my heel landing on his dick, and again, not a peep, at least not form him, I screamed in pain...

Dexter quickly grabbed a cushion, dropped it on the footstool, then carefully place my foot on the cushion.

“Do you have any ice?” he asked, “and bandages?”

“No and no ... well I have some ice, but only enough for a couple of gin and tonics...”

“You have to avoid alcohol while your ankle heals, we did that in first aid at scouts.”

“You have alcohol in scouts? Things have improved since I was a girl guide.”

“No ... well, sometimes the scout masters have a drink at night, but we were doing a first aid course, so it was like we were learning how to treat our family and friends.”

“I guessed that, but it was fun watching you squirm,” I laughed, Dexter really is adorable when he’s blushing.

“Anyway, you need ice and bandages, I’ll go to the chemist and the Co-op...”

“Can you pass me my purse, I’ll give you some money ... here, buy yourself an ice cream with the change.”

“I can’t do that, mum says I shouldn’t take gifts off strangers...”

“I am not a stranger, Dexter, we’re friends, close friends, so close, that if you’d have lifted your eyes when you were unfastening my boot lace, you’d have seen right up my skirt...”

“I know, Miss Fisher, that’s why I looked down.”

“It’s Alice!” I insisted, “and I want you to buy us both a nice ice cream with the change, make it a box of Magnums, the almond ones, unless you’re allergic to nuts.”

“OK Alice...” he replied, taking the £20 note I offered.

I gingerly probed my ankle while he was out, managing to remove my sock without passing out. It had swelled to about twice the normal size, with purple and black bruises appearing.

I phoned my boss, telling him I was unlikely to be able to come in on Monday.

My boss, Mark, is great ... like I said before, he fancies me, but I never lead him on, because that would be cruel. He’s married with a beautiful daughter, and I like his wife, so I’d never try to lead him astray. Still, fluttered eyelashes and a glimpse of cleavage never hurt anyone, and they keep him sweet for times like this.

He told me to work from home for a week, then see how I feel. We’ve an event in a fortnight, so I need to be back on my feet for then, as I’m introducing the acts and spinning a few records ... DJ Alice in da house, he he he.

Dexter was back before I’d finished my call to Mark, so he put most of the big bag of ice and the Magnums in the freezer. The remaining ice was wrapped tightly in a teatowel and pressed firmly on my ankle as I was finishing up with Mark.

“Hold that on your ankle for 20 minutes,” he said, “I’ll make you a sandwich and a cup of tea.”

“There’s no need, I can make myself something later.”

“It’s best if I do it, then I’m not tempted to look up your skirt.”

“You can if you like, I’ve got nice panties on.”

“I noticed...”

“You did peek!” I laughed.

“The ones you spilled over the street are nice to, and the bras ... mum wears boring bras, but Auntie Jane’s are nice.”

“Your Auntie Jane is a bit of a fox...” I told him.

“What does that mean?”

“Like a cougar, or a milf, but I hate that word.”

“Oh ... yes, she is, but she’s not as pretty as you, Alice.”

“Thank you Dexter ... there’s some nice ham and cheese in the fridge, make yourself a sandwich, we’ll save the ice cream for after.”

After we’d eaten, Dexter wrapped my ankle tightly in a bandage, then checked I was OK hobbling about the house.

He brought my duvet and pillows down, so I didn’t need to go upstairs to bed, checked I was OK using the downstairs toilet, then promised to be back tomorrow morning to make me breakfast.

True to his word, Dexter was back before 7am the next day, using the keys I gave his mum so she can water my plants when I’m away. He quickly made me breakfast and two flasks of coffee before dashing off to catch the school bus.

They clearly had two sets of my keys, or Dexter had dropped them back home before getting the bus, as Mary popped in at lunchtime with a pie and peas from the sandwich shop on the corner.

To my shame, I’d not really moved from the sofa, apart from trips to the downstairs lav, so yesterday’s shopping was still scattered where Dexter had dumped it yesterday, and the room was littered with plates, cups and magnum ice cream wrappers and lolly sticks.

Mary set to work tidying up while I ate my pie; she opened the curtains first, temporarily blinding me; scooping up the plates and rubbish on the way back to the kitchen, she did my washing up, taking the empty pie plate the second I’d finished it, then she pushed the hover around.

Finally, she picked up my shopping bags, one of which was upside down, tipping my new underwear on the floor.

She apologised and started to collect everything together, she was way more embarrassed about it than Dexter was, maybe he was used to seeing nice undies with his Auntie Jane around.

“You’re a big girl, aren’t you,” Mary muttered as she slipped the last bra, a red and black lace number I’d been saving for weeks to buy, into the bag.

“34E, and all natural,” I replied without thinking.

“The same size as my Jane, but hers aren’t natural. I wasn’t happy about that, but it’s her money to waste.”